The King's Choice
by WaterBudget
Summary: [Post Lineages and Legacies; Spoilers] "The king of Windor had never dreaded any royal duty so much. In fact, he had switched his schedule around, convincing Cheria that dealing with the recent crime committed in Lhant was more important than…well, a matter he found both alarming and tedious."
1. Prologue: A Meeting

**A/N: This is my first Graces fanfic, by request. I gave in, and so here it is...**

A Meeting:  


The king of Windor had never dreaded any royal duty so much. In fact, he had switched his schedule around, convincing Cheria that dealing with the recent crime committed in Lhant was more important than…well, a matter he found both alarming and tedious.

Richard sat on the throne, its wide, oak back towering over his head. His brown eyes focused on the other end of the chamber as if daring it to open. What if he failed Windor again? He had made bad choices in the past; he had chosen the wrong ally in Lambda, but Asbel—the lord of Lhant—had corrected his mistake. If Richard made the wrong selection now, even Asbel couldn't help him. He didn't know how Asbel could help, though he had joked before that a female Asbel would be perfect. His best friend had blushed and protested.

Richard sighed, the breeze of breath ruffling the blond bangs across his forehead. He couldn't think of that now; he had to deal with a different problem first. When the doors banged open, Richard adjusted the white cravat at his throat and sat a bit straighter. Sometimes, even if one did not feel like a king, one could play the part.

He played it now, feeling the graceful arc of his body, the steady warmth of the throne's vermillion cushion, and the authority of a flourishing kingdom under his command. He felt it all disappear to curiosity as a man with auburn hair and a shockingly white suit strode across the red carpet to kneel in front of the king.

"Asbel? It's wonderful to see you again, but where is the person responsible for ruining the wind mills of Lhant?"

Asbel lifted his head, blue eyes wide and troubled. "She refuses to step into the throne room."

Richard felt an immediate smile lift his mouth. The man in front of him was kind, too kind some might say, but Richard treasured the rare trait. "It would not be chivalrous to force a lady to do anything, hmm? I will speak with her where she is now."

"But Richard, you're the king." Asbel stood at his friend's gesture and then halfheartedly scowled over his shoulder. "She should go where the king tells her."

Richard sprang from the throne, cape flaring out behind him. The unusual occurrence of a female felon had piqued his interest. "Perhaps it's best not to anger someone who can break something so great as the windmills of Lhant."

Suddenly blanched, Asbel followed his king out of the chamber and into a long hallway. There, Richard found an obstinate face of olive complexion. It belonged to a young woman with black hair tipped with red and hazel eyes, which dropped to the king of Windor's feet at his approach.

"Nice boots…but I imagine it must be difficult to get around without bending your knees." She spoke the words like a barb, but her body had turned away like a cornered animal preparing to flee.

Richard didn't even spare a downward glance at his thigh-high boots. "They are custom-made and very flexible. I assure you I can bend my knees perfectly well. That aside, I wish to speak with you about the windmills."

"I won't tell you a thing."

"That means there is something to tell?" Richard raised an eyebrow.

The woman clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes almost pained as they met the king of Windor's. She wore the clothes of a commoner: a white blouse, red vest, and a brown, pleated skirt. How bold then to both look at him so directly and omit his title.

"Your name?"

"Jasmin."

"Well, Jasmin, I will give you three days to think about what you want to tell me. Wrecking windmills in Lhant is like burning down the castle in Barona. It's a very serious matter." Richard nodded at Asbel. "Please, escort her to my steward. He will find her a room to stay in until the trial."

The king of Windor could sense a story lurking in the young lady, but she was trembling now with the word "trial" in the air. Even with Asbel's questioning eyes on him, Richard was certain that within three days, he could coax out the details of what had truly happened. In addition, he could delay Cheria's insistence that he find a bride to make his queen a few more days.

"Is that wise?" Jasmin crossed her arms. "Why not convict me and be done with it?"

"She was there every single time when a windmill fell apart," Asbel murmured, "Didn't even try to run when we caught her. I let her go two times…and then the third time, I decided something had to be done."

Richard smiled at the woman before him, intrigued when she turned pink. "Every citizen deserves a fair chance to have his story heard. I am sure there is a reasonable explanation."

"You won't be getting that explanation from me." Jasmin turned her back, and Asbel escorted her away, throwing a dry glance back at the stubborn king of Windor.

Still, Richard was always up for a challenge.


	2. Day 1

Day 1

Somehow, his plan hadn't fallen into place. Cheria was pacing the length of the conference room with the air of an agitated mother hen. Even so, not a single pink hair was out of place. "Your Majesty, you have to pick soon."

"Richard," the king of Windor corrected. He looked forlornly at the stack of papers on his desk.

"Richard," Cheria allowed with a sharp glance for him, "you have to interview the candidates. I can't pick for you…" Her tone softened as Sophie burst into the room.

The purple-haired young woman tilted her head, confused to find Richard and Cheria of all people in serious discussion. Somehow, Cheria had become the coordinator of the king's wedding plans. Richard couldn't recall how it happened, though his alternate, whimsical option had been hiring Pascal instead. Perhaps the brilliant Amarcian could produce a machine with the algorithm to find the perfect queen for Windor?

Not to say that Cheria had done a poor job. With her heart thrown into the task, she had planned out every detail using a modest budget and an unerring sense of what most women would call "romance." With the advice of Duke Dalen, she had also gathered a list of eligible women—a list that Richard had not even looked at.

"Good morning, Richard!" Sophie turned a very serious gaze to Cheria. "Can we have royal crablettes for dinner, since we're here in Barona?"

Cheria sighed, a tiny smile on her lips, when Richard assured Asbel's adopted daughter, "Of course. I knew that both of you would come with Asbel, so I had the cooks prepare some." Even after the adventure on Fodra, with Sophie gaining enough height to appear as a young adult, her love for crablettes remained.

Sophie approved with a dip of her head and then. "So, Richard, did you figure out what to do with the criminal? I can help with the punishment." The earnestness of Sophie's inquiry, lacking any sadistic quality, made the other two laugh.

Richard had forgotten how much he had missed his friends. Busy with administration, he had overlooked that feeling of loneliness. "Maybe I should pay a visit to our criminal. Do you mind, Cheria?"

"Not at all." Cheria knew there was no point in talking about selecting a queen when Richard's heart wasn't in it.

"Want to come, Sophie?"

"Yes!"

"And so he escapes," Cheria murmured with a laugh as the king slipped from the chamber with Sophie in tow.

The king and his companion traveled the halls with bold strides, Sophie matching Richard's exaggerated swagger step for step. After a few minutes, she asked, "Is this how kings walk?"

"Only when going to speak to their prisoners." They stopped in front of two tall brown doors. "Are you ready?"

Sophie looked serious now. "I heard from Asbel that she destroyed the windmills of Lhant. The town went dark for a few days…"

"Were you scared?"

"When it was dark in the mansion, Asbel kept knocking into things, so..."

"Not scary at all then." Richard laughed and rapped his knuckles against the doors.

The response was a curt, "Come in if you must."

Undeterred, Richard swept into the chamber and found Jasmin reading a book on a furnished sofa. She looked comfortable, if a bit wary of them. "Jasmin, I trust you found your stay pleasant so far."

"It would be were I not a prisoner." Jasmin placed the book on a table nearby. She gave Sophie a nod. "Who is this? Your daughter?"

Richard clutched at his heart. Did he look so old? "Ah…this is Sophie, the daughter of the lord of Lhant."

"Oh yes. She looks familiar." Jasmin squinted, smiling when Sophie moved closer to Richard at her gaze. "Nice to meet you, Sophie. Named after the sopheria flower, are you?"

Sophie beamed. "Yes, I am. Nice to meet you too."

Though her demeanor had gentled, Jasmin questioned the king of Windor. "Did you bring her to lower my guard?"

"I brought her to alleviate your fears. Surely you cannot think I would do anything terrible to you in front of such an innocent girl?"

"True, but neither can I confess."

"Is the truth too terrible to share with Sophie here?" Richard wondered.

"I will not discuss it with anyone."

"Fine, then let's just have some tea and talk for a bit." In ten minutes, the three of them were settled on the sofa with a tray of tea placed on the table by a castle servant. Sophie sipped at the lemon-flavor tea with gusto; she was content to let the other two talk.

"Are you originally from Lhant?"

"Born and raised." Jasmin's face held fondness at the mention of the small town. "I live outside it now."

"Why is that?"

"My sister." The words were said with faint irritation. Then Jasmin's eyes widened, and Richard knew he had hit upon a key point.

"Tell me more about your sister."

"After our parents passed away, she wanted to move outside of Lhant. I live with her. That's all." Jasmin buried her face into the teacup. A quick side-glance aligned her eyes with the king of Windor's, and she flushed. "Ah, anyway…surely you have more important business than conversing with me?"

"Important business yes…but unpleasant."

"So you enjoy interrogations, do you?" A hint of a mischief surprised Richard, and he parried with a grin.

"Of a certain kind yes."

Jasmin paused. "I did not expect **that** of Windor's king."

"What does she mean?" Sophie had taken the moment to tune into the conversation.

"Nothing at all!" Richard said, startled to find the tables turned on him. He had wanted to see Jasmin betray more emotion. Now instead, he found Sophie's dangerous curiosity pointed at him like a rapier.

"Tell me. What is this unpleasant duty of yours?" Jasmin seemed to brighten, a flower unfolding underneath sunlight.

"I must find a queen for Windor." The truth escaped before he could snatch it.

"Is that all? I didn't think a king, who defeated Nova monsters on behalf of his people, would shy away from finding a wife."

Even being made fun of, Richard couldn't help but notice her wording. Few people outside the king's court and army knew of the truth of the deadly Nova monsters. "It is a king's duty to produce an heir…"

"Just like Asbel has to."

Richard glanced at Sophie with amusement. "Yes, he does. Even with their love confessed and a betrothal, those two are taking their time."

Sophie smiled back up at him. "Well, Cheria says she has to make sure the relief organization can manage without her…and Asbel is busy too with paperwork, he says."

"Excuses," Richard muttered, lifting a hand to his chin in thought.

"Just like you're using me as an excuse." Jasmin finished the last of her tea, placed the cup on the tray in front of them and picked up her book again. "Perhaps there is a reason you don't want to pick a queen? Once you find that reason and unravel it, I'm sure you can move forward and complete your duty…Your Majesty."

Richard blinked at the odd pleasantness of his title. "Thank you for the advice. I won't bother you any further today. Come, Sophie, let us return to Cheria."

At the door, he glanced back to find Jasmin immersed in the book. He read the title on its cover—one of his favorites for philosophy. "I will likely stop by again tomorrow." He did not receive an answer, but Sophie soon distracted him with questions about interrogations.


End file.
